Sunday, February 12, 2012

The good news, it's a great day in staying strong in my "not acting on it" thinking.

I'm not totally sure what triggered it. It WAS a crazy weekend for us - my daughter turned 8 and there was mucho celebration. I know I saw a photo which horrified and fascinated me in terms of what my body looked like. I get pretty frustrated that photos can't be trusted. And I do know they can't. There were many other photos which looked totally different and it's impossible that I gain 75 pounds in time for one photo and then lost it for the next. Clearly. But of course ED just keeps drawing me back to the unflattering photo.

Then we got busy with sleepober party prep. My eating was erratic/non-existant. By today, eating anything then made me feel bloated and loagie and ick. I know I didn't overeat. But I'm sitting here feeling disgusting. And since I know my therapist will ask me all about what I did next when I see her Wednesday, I'm trying to follow a path of which I'll be proud to report.

So, here I am. Acknowledging it. Reflecting on it. Deciding it's not the end of the world and that tomorrow I could very well feel totally differently again about my shape/size/body. And when I'm done here, I'll make a little food plan for tomorrow to get back on track with consistant eating.

This is the best I can do. It's enough. And this section of the dance will move on.

Eliminate talk of “good” food and “bad” food and replace with talk of “everyday” food and “sometimes” food.

Wednesday, February 1, 2012

I tell my daughter at least once a day that I love her. Probably more times than that, but we'll be conservative for the sake of this rumination.

She's the only one. I don't say it to anyone else. Well, not in the same way anyhow.

When I realized this, I wondered why it came to pass. Curious isn't it? I mean, there must be other people in my life that I love, right?

Well, I don't know. There are people in my life I know I should love. I'm supposed to love my husband, my parents, my sister, nieces and nephews. And I'm sure I probably do. But it doesn't live in the same part of me that this tangible love for my daughter lives. I can feel that love with every cell in my body, can feel it motivate me to protect, encourage, comfort. It moves me on a visceral level.

I'm left wondering why I don't feel that for anyone else. Is it because I can't? Is it because I don't? Is it the love of a mother for her child in all its magical and biological glory?

An idea that sticks in my brain is that I can love her because it's completely and totally safe for me to do so. The love is reflected back to me 10 fold and is absorbed like a sponge. There's no fear of rebuke, no fear of not seeing it reflected back in her eyes. Just as I can feel the love I have FOR her pulsing through me, I can also feel it in return.

Walls are frustrating. While they keep things neat and tidy and defined, sometimes they are just so thick and so high. I'm curious what it outside the walls. But fear is keeping the gate locked. ED is a sentry allowing no one but the purveyors of basic supplies in or out. What began as protective walls have now become a prison. What would happen if I dismissed the sentry and set off to roam? How would I keep myself safe without these walls and these watchmen? Will I find I didn't need them? Will I rush back screaming for sanctuary?

I wish I could say that today is the day I will storm the gates and free myself. I'm not sure that's something I'm ready to do. Another goal for another time. Until then, perhaps I can steady a ladder and peer over the top. Survey the landscape. Send a message out that soon I will be on the outside and will need travelling companions to keep me company on the journey.